


Liability for This Claim

by Miraphina Atherton (mew_tsubaki)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Older Characters, Post-Deathly Hallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 16:39:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12016785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_tsubaki/pseuds/Miraphina%20Atherton
Summary: We all know what Zacharias Smith is like. He's a no-good wizard. He's never had any problem with that. Until now.





	Liability for This Claim

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This was done for the 2010 forum-wide competition in the HPFC. The Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not to me.
> 
> House: Slytherin
> 
> Week: Four (fourth challenge)
> 
> Challenge: Romantic pairing with a given character and one character not in your House. Mine: Zacharias Smith of Hufflepuff. Other: Parvati Patil.

" _You should've been in Slytherin_ ," she scoffed. It all began with that one statement.

Parvati Patil had said it to me after the Battle of Hogwarts was over. I had managed to stay out of harm's way until the fight had finished, but I'd never managed to flee. So I was forced to see the wreckage and decay of the aftermath. Merlin, I've never wanted to see so many corpses. Ever. And I never want to see that many again.

I had been wandering around, gaping at the piles of, ugh, bodies, when I'd accidentally bumped into someone. It turned out to be Parvati Patil (only identifiable by her mangled Gryffindor tie) supporting her twin, Padma, who was limping very badly. Parvati had glared at me with a nasty look in her eyes. "Uch, Smith."

I'd drawn myself up, not wanting to be chastised. "What's it to you, Patil?"

"You coward!" she'd growled. "We were all busy fighting! And what did you do? You ran with your tail between your legs. How you ever managed to stay in Dumbledore's Army, I'll never know. You're no Hufflepuff. That's the House of _loyalty_."

"I _am_ loyal," I'd spat. "I'm loyal to life. Chiefly, mine."

"Of course that would come from you." She had rolled her dark eyes and then fixed me with another glare. "You should've been in Slytherin, you self-righteous creep." She'd shoved past me then and continued on, not bothering to look back.

I received similar reactions from others, specifically members of the D.A. It turned out I was the only member to have tried to run…but so what? As I'd said to Parvati, I wanted to _live_. And I would use any means to keep on living.

* * *

It would be a year later when I would have the misfortune to run into that hypercritical witch again.

After Hogwarts, there wasn't much for me to do. I didn't have any outstanding capabilities, and I lacked one too many O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s for any kind of job in the Ministry of Magic. My best bet was finding work at _The Daily Prophet_. However, working as everyone's lackey wasn't my idea of fun, either. But I had to put up with it because it was the only job I could find.

Being at the _Prophet_ , I didn't really see anyone from my school days. …okay, so there was that stupid Brown girl from Gryffindor, but she was a reporter with an advice column, so I never had to go anywhere near her. I was the busboy for most of the other correspondents. Thank Merlin I didn't have to deal with her.

And yet my words would turn on me.

I had recently celebrated my first year on the job when _she_ walked in. It had been a day like any other—grab everyone's post, fetch everyone's coffee or tea, get everyone's article to the editor immediately. As if I could split into ten people… There isn't magic for that, dammit!

Anyway, Brown was waltzing around my lower level, and I had no idea why. My first thought was that she had finally gotten the assistant editor/manager promotion and was coming to lord it over the others. Then I saw she had a companion with her.

Oh, bollocks.

"…and she's the witch you go to when there's something going on in the naturalist field. She tends to refer to _The Quibbler_ for her info and that paper's editor—you remember, Luna Lovegood's dad—for interviews. _This_ is—" Brown stopped short when her eyes fell upon me. She grimaced. "Ah. Zacharias Smith."

"Can I help you?" I said through gritted teeth.

Brown ignored me and turned to Parvati. How could I have forgotten only a year later that the two were best mates? That was my only pondering as Brown said to her, "He's our errand boy. So if you need anything, you ask him. You won't even have to lift your wand," she finished with a smirk towards me.

"Look you—" I wanted to finish my sentence, but…

"Oh? What was that? You don't like your job anymore?" Brown looked at me with feigned care. "I'm so sorry. I'm sure I could find someone else, if you insist."

I bit my lip from "insisting" that she was a cross between a hag and a Mandrake. "I'm busy, so I must be on my way," I stated slowly, pushing my ruddy cart between them and returning Parvati's shove from that one time a year ago.

"See you around, Smith," Parvati sneered. Little did I know what was in store for me.

* * *

I had a false sense of security from the start.

It was fairly nice and quiet when Parvati started. She seemed to be a reporter like any of the others. She was determined, rather talkative (though she and Brown always had been even in our school days), and hardworking. And, at the start, it was only little things.

I would push my post cart through the pathways between cubicles and a wheel would get stuck. I would take a corner and a wheel would fall off. My tie would get caught in some strange package and tear when I yanked it out.

See? Little things.

But then it got a little worse for me. Almost any opportunity for me to trip and take a tumble, it happened. My bloody legs looked…well, bloody and bruised. Once, I had to chase my cart down a hallway!

My hair was purple one day, I sprouted tentacles the next, and I was covered in boils that wouldn't disappear for a week. Obviously, I was at my wits' end. So I was a chicken and didn't like fighting. So I didn't stay to help "bring about the end of You-Know-Who's reign." So I had always been skeptical of Harry Potter's "amazing" feats. But this was getting tiresome.

In my opinion, the worst bit was about a month into these jokes. _Someone_ conjured a tree root in the ground to trip me. I crashed into a door, however, and broke my nose. Blood got everywhere, including on the post and caffeine I was meant to deliver.

The howls of laughter behind me severely incited my anger. I whipped around to let my accursed coworkers have a piece of my mind. But a handkerchief caught me off-guard and pinched my nose.

"Ow!" I barked, wincing. I blinked a few times before seeing it was _that_ woman.

"Sorry, I'm just trying to stop the bleeding," Parvati stated. She knelt down in front of me, frowning. "Are you, er, all right?"

I'll admit, she was the last person I expected ever to want to deal with me. Yet, here she was, looking…rather guilty. Tsk. Go figure. She probably just wanted to look good for everyone else, though she was most likely the culprit. I swatted her hand away, my eyes darkening as I simmered. "I'm _fine._ "

"No, you're not. At least let me—"

"I said that I'm fine!" Our coworkers returned to their business while I cleaned up my mess. Parvati, unfortunately, remained.

She silently watched me for a moment. "I… Smith, I…"

I got up, fixed my nose with a spell, and siphoned the blood off everything. "You didn't want anything to do with me. I don't want anything to do with you. That's that." I left, my false sense of security gone. With at least two people at work who despised me, I knew I would be looking over my shoulder every waking minute.

* * *

To my surprise, there weren't any practical jokes or pranks the week after that. Nor were there any the following week. Or the next. I began to wonder if Parvati were planning something big.

On my break one day, I went to the cafeteria (well, more like a small mess hall) for lunch. I sat as usual by myself…until someone slapped a cellophane-wrapped sandwich down across from me.

"Get lost," I told her without glancing at her face.

Again, she did that quiet thing and just watched me for a bit. Finally, when I was praying for the lunch break to end, she opened her mouth. "You could've fought."

"Excuse me?" I said, squinting at her. "Fighting gets you the boot around here."

"I meant back then," Parvati explained, picking at her sandwich. "You could've fought. You could do the magic."

I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly lacking an appetite. I pushed my lunch bag away. "You were the one who called me a self-righteous creep. You called me a coward. You might be right, but I don't care. I lived, didn't I? We can't say the same for too many others."

Parvati cupped her cheek, thinking. "You…were right, too."

I swear I was deaf. There was no way she was telling me this. "Beg pardon?"

She stared at the table. "Don't get me wrong. I still think you're an idiot. But… Too many were lost," she said, rubbing the back of her neck. "Too many were hurt. Padma still has her limp. The Weasleys—"

"What about them?"

The witch met my eyes. "You didn't know? They lost Fred."

I shut my mouth. Of course I remembered the Weasley twins—who didn't?—but to have to think of even _them_ as anything but a set… "Anyone else I know?"

"If you recall Professor Lupin…he and his wife were killed."

I narrowed my eyes. "That…"

"What?"

I pursed my lips. "It just seems… _impossible_. I mean, I'm never one to believe fully in one's powers, but Lupin seemed pretty strong and quick-witted. For him to…" I stopped, my shoulder sinking. "You know, I fail to see how I'm right, actually."

Parvati sighed and stretched. "Think about it. If more had run, if more had chosen not to engage in certain fights—more would've survived. More wouldn't have been injured."

I frowned. "Then if you believe me, why did you torment me? Why are you even working here?"

"I like gossip, but I'm a good reporter. I won't stop until I have the story straight. And that wasn't me playing tricks on you."

"You always looked guilty!"

"Because…"

I paused, realization hitting. "You know _who_ did it." I scoffed and shook my head. I rubbed my mouth and had a hard time not sneering and walking away. "What made you change your mind about me?" I asked, catching her off-guard. Obviously she had been expecting me to ask who it was that had acted.

"Well… I've had plenty of time to stand back and survey things since the war. I still think you were a coward, but that's the Gryffindor in me talking. The logical part of me is asking why my sister and I remained in harm's way. And everyone's been hurt, either emotionally, physically, or both."

"Not your mate," I snarled. "Her life's duty is to reign over us, though she doesn't quite have that position yet."

"It was Lavender."

"I knew it! If it wasn't you, then it _had_ to be her."

"Smith, it's because _she_ remembers your actions. At first, she was getting back at you because…well, for me, since you had the gall to tell me you'd put your own life first. But she was getting back at you for herself, too. Greyback mauled her," she finished quietly, her face serious. "It stings to hear that someone who might've done some good refused to do so."

What does one say to that? Are there even any words? Not even I had a snappy comeback for that. Yes, people, I'm human. Contrary to popular belief, I _do_ have a conscience and emotions. At least one thing made sense now: Lavender Brown wore long sleeves and high collars year-round for good reason.

Parvati sighed. "I…shouldn't have told you that." She blushed, realizing the gossip in her hadn't helped. "Actually, I probably should've left you alone, as you wished." The Indian woman stood. "Look, just forget I said anyth—"

"I couldn't have been a Slytherin," I spluttered, my mind not catching up with my mouth.

She stared at me.

"I couldn't. If I had been, then I would've been able to come up with some ingenious plan to help. Though, being a snake, I might not have revealed it." For the first time, we shared a laugh, one not as tepid as I'd imagined.

"You know, Smith, it might be nice not to be a snake or a badger or a lion. Try being yourself," the witch quipped. "I'll see you later."

"Er, yeah, see you…" Great, that was the best I could think of? I wanted to slap myself as she walked away, because—for the first time since my beginning at Hogwarts—I realized I'd found someone I might be able to trust. And maybe…maybe she had a little faith in me, too. Another first in my life: I prayed that I was right.

* * *

Parvati took to having lunch with me, which was a blessed change from the rest of my time at the _Prophet_. She didn't hate spending her free time with me; in fact, if I were an idiot, I'd daresay she _enjoyed_ it… Crap. I'm beginning to think of myself as an idiot.

After two and a half months of cordiality, she imparted something to me that changed things between us. She told me that the reason the jokes had stopped was that she'd managed to convince Brown to stop.

"I asked her to knock it off."

"No," I said, chuckling. " _Her_? She's so…"

"Stubborn?" Parvati supplied with raised eyebrows. "Don't I know it. She's my best mate. But, yeah, I asked her to knock it off. When that didn't work, I asked her to remember what it was like when others weren't that fond of her."

"There was such a time?"

"Yes, there was. That was how she and I became friends, and she kind of outgrew her obnoxiousness." Parvati smirked. "Some don't."

I gave her a look. "Hey! I'm getting by without questioning _everyone's_ actions or talents."

The way she laughed and didn't seem to have any walls up around me… I stopped praying that I was right about her changing her opinion of me. I found myself _wanting_ to change her opinion of me.

I, Zacharias Smith, was going to act and not run away.

I waited and observed her more, trying to see if I could gauge her reaction. If I moved too early, this would all blow up in my face, and I would be a lone wolf again at work. If I moved too late, Parvati… She was charming. She could have any bloke she wanted. If I never made a move, she could still be my friend, at least.

But she was charming. And rather beautiful. And she treated me like a human, and she was full of fire and compassion and—oh, hell, I've fallen hard for her, haven't I?

That's it. It's been almost another month and a half. I'm making my move. … Wish me luck.

* * *

My shift was over. _FINALLY_. It'd been a truly hard day. Busy, too. The Quidditch World Cup was coming up, so nearly everything was related to the Wizarding sport.

I had a crick in my neck from being hunched over my ruddy cart, but luckily that cart was in storage for the night, and I could head home. I left the floor by way of Parvati's cubicle, hoping we could catch a bite to eat. I slowed when I overheard her laughing with someone else. A _male_ someone else.

"You're horrible!" Parvati said. "You're Seamus' mate! You should tell him when a broom design's awful!"

Ah. So it was Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan's best mate. But why would he be here? Unless… "I can't, Parvati. I'm not blunt enough. Anyway, you've been pretty busy here, not going out a lot. What's got you?"

"Oh… Well, I have been busy. I've also been catching up with Zacharias. We've become really good friends." Oh, Merlin. Something caught in her voice.

I heard Dean snort. "Smith? _The_ Smith? The one whom Ron so eloquently and delicately described as a 'tosspot'? What good would come of that?"

"Not much, apparently," I piped up as I approached, spooking them both, more so Parvati. She looked as though I had the Dark Mark in place of a face.

"Zacharias! I didn't know you were still here!"

"Does it matter?" I asked bitterly. "I'm a no-good coward—oh, and a tosspot, too," I added, and Dean had the decency to look contrite over being heard. I shook my head. "I was on my way out, and I thought I'd…" My intention fell dead on my lips. "I'd" what? Take her on a date? Show her how lovely the stars were beneath a sky absent of inter-department memos? I silently laughed at myself. "'Night, Parvati," I finished miserably. I turned my back on her, at least relishing her reprimand to Dean.

I'd almost made it out of the building when I heard hurried footsteps behind me. "Zacharias! Stop!" The footsteps got closer. " _Zach_! I want you to stop!"

I turned around, biting my lip to keep from saying anything idiotic. Ugh, she looked gorgeous even with stray hairs in her face—stupid feelings. "Don't you have your piece on new Quidditch uniform styles to finish?"

Parvati fixed me with a glare. "Zach, stop it. It wasn't what it looked like."

"You were talking about me with Thomas!"

"No, I wasn't! _He_ said that, not me. And he was just wondering about you, since I'm the only one who's gotten to know you and see that you've…changed." She said the last bit with a funny look on her face. She wasn't quite blushing, but she wasn't quite anything else either.

I glanced behind her. "Don't you have your boyfriend to return to?"

Parvati rolled her eyes and sighed. "Typical male… He's not my boyfriend."

"You seemed pretty cozy to me."

"He's _Lavender's_ boyfriend. Besides, why should that matter to you?"

"I like you. A lot." Her mouth hung open a little, and I knew it took all of my strength to keep my eyes on hers. This had to have been the only bold thing I'd ever done—aside from joining the D.A. in the first place. "But I guess that doesn't matter much, does it? Everyone looks at me the same way, as if _I_ were the one scratched by Greyback."

Parvati frowned. "Zach…"

Well, if this was going to be the end, then I was going out with a bang. I reached for her waist and drew her to me. I kissed Parvati, something which I'd never thought would happen in this lifetime. It was sweet and passionate at once, and I'm sure all of my feelings came across in it. When we broke apart, I rested my forehead on hers. "P, I changed. A lot. I wanted to, for you. But it won't do if everyone looks at you as they do me."

She wound her fingers in my shirt collar and leaned her head on my shoulder. "So? You shouldn't've been in Hufflepuff."

I grimaced. "Don't I know it."

"No…you should've been in Gryffindor, Zach. It takes the most courage to want to change yourself and change things."

"Did it work?"

"You tell me." And she kissed me back.

**Author's Note:**

> Long and sweet and one of my favorite pieces. I hated Zacharias Smith. And then I wrote the first Zachvati. Now I love him, and I hope you do, too. :D
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please review!
> 
> -mew-tsubaki ;3
> 
> Thanks as always to Morghen for beta'ing! XD Also, thanks to papa mew, too, for looking this over for me. ;D
> 
> 2017 note: It's true. 7 yrs ago, before Zachvati was a thought in my mind, I disliked Zach as much as we were supposed to. Then I wrote this, and I just… -w- Honestly, I think they rly work, so I'm glad I got to write this for a competition. They became part of my overall headcanon, and I'm still working on a chaptered fic for them that's set in my headcanon universe (the Maydayverse), because there's just not enough Zachvati. :3c (I also recall this oneshot pushing the limits of the word-count for the competition, but since it's over, this edited version has some flourishes that make it a bit longer but also flow better. ;P)


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